Wrong
by Athena2693
Summary: Roger/Jack slashy story, set a few years in an AU future. Abandoned.
1. Prologue

"Wrong"  
  
Category: Romance, angst  
  
Pairing: Jack/Roger maybe Twincest later  
  
Warnings: Maybe some spoilers  
  
Rating: PG-13 to R  
  
Summary: Obviously AU. Ralph's dead, Jack is a submissive, and who knows, maybe mpreg by the end (everything I write pretty much ends in mpreg). Based off the 1990 movie mostly.  
  
At first, it had all been a game. Then it had been a struggle for power. And after Ralph fell sobbing to the ground, crying in relief that they had been found, it had been a way of life. He had just lost it. They had driven him to the brink. His mind had collapsed on itself, knowing it would soon die. It made his death easier. Doubtless, he hardly felt the spears pierce his flesh and, eventually, his organs.  
  
After Ralph's death, they had mounted his head, under Jack instruction, but no beast ever accepted it. It was decided that Ralph had, after all, been the monster the entire time. The boys carried on under Jack's control and they seemed to be living peacefully for a few years.  
  
Nobody was quite sure when Roger began to share Jack's bed. The two had always been especially close. Roger was, after all, Jack's second in command. It was obvious he trusted him fully. He was the only one that Jack let light the fires or lead the dance. He always chose him first in the ritual beast hunt to represent their prey.  
  
The whispers that they were something more began less than a year after Ralph's death. Some of the littluns claimed to have seen Roger leaving Jack's hut in the early hours of the morning, before the hunters awoke. Sometimes, Jack painted blood in patterns on his throat to hide the little bruises there.  
  
Then the morning came where it began to rain, but it didn't storm. A day where Jack announced all may stay in the huts and spend the hours as they pleased, since the sun didn't seem to want to show up. The huts were sturdier then they were in the past. They kept the occupants dry and warm. Some of the littluns snuggled beneath their pigskins and returned to sleep.  
  
Samneric were responsible for keeping Jack's bowls full. Jack always chose his favorites as slaves, but they were not considered as such. They were his men. The twins never felt any resentment.  
  
So they filled four coconuts and, holding two each, trudged through the rain to the hut. They wished to hurry back to the warmth of their own hut, which they alone shared. Most of the littluns had three or four shoved in per shelter. Only Jack and Roger possessed their own huts, the best they had built.  
  
And the twins had been met with such a site! The thumps of the coconuts broke Jack's concentration, as he moved against Roger's larger body. Their hips were pressed together like the edges of two halves of a cut coconut. They fit perfectly, like the twins themselves. Roger didn't even look up. Jack, who was resting on his stomach, only moved his head to the side, his eyes gazing into their own. They fled without a word.  
  
They must have known that everyone would definitely know their secret now. The others even wondered why they bothered to hide it at all. Jack was the chief, and everyone always obeyed the chief. No one protested when Roger moved all his things to Jack's hut. Why would they? The twins received Roger's huts, and some of the littluns got some more legroom with an extra home.  
  
Roger began to rule at Jack's side. First as a lesser being; then, as an equal. It gradually began to shift in the opposite direction. Jack stopped making decisions so quickly and looked towards Roger for his opinion. Roger still talked little, but it was obvious to the littluns even that Jack lost some of his dominance. No one could deny this when Roger would grab the smaller boy's arm and pull him, somewhat against his will, into his lap. But he didn't fight. But they still saw Jack as the leader, for he gave the directions. Even if they were Roger's directions, they came from Jack's pragmatic lips. Everyone obeyed his orders as if a close-knit coup wasn't slowly occurring. Why would they really care if Jack lost his position? He certainly wasn't the first on the island, and Roger and Jack cared too much for each other than to follow the path Ralph had lead.  
  
And when the bruises began appearing on Jack's arms and back, they could pretend he fell down in the hunt. And when his face was suddenly always covered with the mask, well, he was allowed to wear it as much as he wished, he was the chief.  
  
One day, he didn't come out of the hut. He didn't emerge the second day either, or third. Rumors began to spread. Roger was leading the hunt now. Jack rarely ever missed a hunt. On the fourth day, the twins said they saw Jack when they went to fill the bowls before anyone was awake. He was sprawled out on his back with one of Roger's arms draped across his stomach. The arm rose and fell steadily upon the rounded flesh and Jack was said to have turned and snuggled against Roger for warmth before the boys left. Doubtlessly, the open door had blown a chill through the hut.  
  
On the eighth morning he emerged, paler than he was a week before, but no less healthy. He stood before the boys and soft-colored flowers were sprinkled at his feet. Roger stood beside him with his heavy-muscled arm lying across Jack's shoulders, and announced that Jack had went through a spiritual cleansing, the first part of their bonding ceremony. The ceremony would occur in one week, everyone was to prepare presents, food, and decoration. It would be a splendid day!  
  
TBC? 


	2. Drama

Again, just wanted to say that this is based off the 1990 movie, I am American so it makes it easier for me to write, and yes, I noticed the vocab is probably a bit larger then it should be for 16 year olds that have been trapped on an island for four years. Oh well, here you go...  
  
Wrong: Chapter 2  
  
"We should make some clothes," Sam said thoughtfully.  
  
"What for," Jack looked towards where the twins were weaving twigs and vines together. They were making a tall structure to hang flowers upon, as some of the littluns insisted that "weddings" had to have flowers.  
  
"You know, just because."  
  
"Yeah," Eric agreed, "Everyone always wears fancy clothes."  
  
"I don't find the need for it."  
  
"It's just…how it's supposed to be."  
  
"This isn't a wedding, you realize? We're done with that part of our lives. I'm bonding myself to Roger spiritually, we're not just switching rings so we can fuck our brains out and spit out some kids."  
  
"What did you do for a week anyway," Sam glanced at Jack from beneath his eyelashes but still concentrating at the task at hand.  
  
"Roger said we're not supposed to talk about it, it's something all of us will have to go through if we are to be bonded."  
  
"Why didn't he then?" Eric lifted a vine and snipped through it with his sharp little teeth, then twined it around a twig.   
  
"It's hard to explain."  
  
"Come on."  
  
"He says it has something to do with our…positions."  
  
"Oh," Sam lifted an eyebrow, a little smile sneaking in.  
  
"Don't you dare! I don't wanna hear your opinion on this."  
  
"Wasn't going to say a word."  
  
"I know that look, Sam."  
  
"Just…thinking."  
  
"Keep it that way. Anyways, Roger had some other stuff to go through. I can't tell you what he did, but I think I got the better end of the deal."  
  
"Did you get anything to eat?"  
  
"I told you, I can't talk about it."  
  
"You're so unfair. What if, what if I wanted to bond myself to Eric, huh? Don't you think I'd hesitate if I didn't know the consequence?"  
  
"Sam, if you really loved someone you'd willingly go through with it, it wouldn't matter. Besides, I doubt you are going to pick your brother as your life partner."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Yeah, what's wrong with me," Eric stood up, dusting sand from the little curls on his legs.  
  
"Could you imagine yourself giving yourselves to each other? You'd probably end up in a mass of tangled limbs trying to find out which foot is which. Of course, you'd eventually lose feeling and you'd sit there trying to yank your own foot thinking it was the others! I think there's a name for people who are excited by themselves."  
  
"We wouldn't be though."  
  
"No," Sam agreed, "We're two different people."  
  
"I don't-"  
  
"Jack, come on," Roger suddenly appeared behind him, face streaked with red and black. "We are going hunting. Some littluns claimed to have found some large animals in a cave, and they aren't pigs. I wanna see what they are."  
  
"What for?" he grabbed Roger's hand that was extended to him and pulled himself up, brushing off tendrils of vine and sand from his lap.  
  
"For the feast, of course. The celebration is going to be great."  
  
"The twins were thinking about making us new clothes for the ceremony."  
  
"What for?" he looked towards the two identical figures standing before the ocean.  
  
"It just seems like we should," Eric said softly, turning his head away, trying to escape Roger's intense eyes.  
  
He shook his head and took Jack's arm in his own, leaning him back to the huts to put on the paint and get his spear.  
  
"We're not getting new clothes, Jack, this isn't a marriage."  
  
"That's what I told them. We can just wear our clothes, like we always do."  
  
"Actually, I was kinda thinking we could do body paint."  
  
"Body paint?"  
  
"Yes, we can go naked and paint ourselves with symbols and such. Don't you think that would be more symbolic?"  
  
"It would," he nodded, "What about the others?"  
  
"They can go as they normally would, except maybe more symbolic face paint. But the twins, you have asked them to be in the ceremony, right?"  
  
Jack nodded. They had come to the hut now. He opened the large, heavy door for Roger, and then followed him inside.  
  
"They said they'd be delighted to be in the ceremony, but they want to know what they have to do."  
  
"We'll have a secret conference with them later. We should have them painted elaborately also. But they'll still wear their cloths. It's about us, so only we should expose ourselves so fully."  
  
"Should we though? I mean, the littluns are awfully small now."  
  
"Not so very, and they've killed and survived on their own so long. I'm sure some nudity won't scar them for life. Sit down."  
  
Roger grabbed a coconut shell full of blood (which was starting to congeal now actually, they'd have to replace it soon) and sat beside Jack on their mound of skins they called a bed. The routine was so average, so mediocre. Jack sat motionless while Roger carefully applied the make-up to his cheeks, trying not to flutter his eyelashes, as he knew his eyes wished to when Roger's finger trailed along the space between nose and eye.  
  
"Are your wrists still bothering you?"  
  
"Not that much."  
  
"You understand that I never meant to hurt you don't you? I just got carried away."  
  
"I know you can't control yourself in bed, it's alright."  
  
"I'd never hurt you on any other occasion, I want you to know that, before you bond yourself to me. You're my chief."  
  
"Roger, I know that, that's why you have always been so important to me. I trust you."  
  
"The littluns have been talking. They say I beat you, intentionally."  
  
"Why would they say that," Jack took the bowl from Roger and set it back on the stand constructed of various flat-shaped rocks.  
  
"Because of the bruises and such."  
  
"Did you ever speak against them?"  
  
"What am I supposed to say? 'No boys, I didn't slap him around, I just held him down by the throat while fucking him?'"  
  
Jack winced, shaking his head slightly.  
  
"Not with such crude and…descriptive language. You could just say we were in bed when it happened."  
  
"And they'll ask if you fell off. You know I don't communicate with them well."  
  
"Yes, I know that. Do you want me to talk to them about it?"  
  
"They don't need to know everything about us, Jack. They're getting old enough to take care of themselves. Some don't even show up for days at a time. You know some of them are probably doing the same thing we are."  
  
"I don't want to think about that. Are they waiting for us?"  
  
"I told them to give me a half-hour. Why, is something wrong?"  
  
"No, you just look like you needed to be held. Come here."  
  
Jack reached for Roger, as he lay back against the wall, careful not to put his full weight against it. Truly, Roger was quite strained and tired. After four days of preparation, it played a toll upon his body. He allowed himself to rest a cheek on Jack's chest as the smaller boy rubbed his back soothingly.  
  
"Jack, I think I miss being a child."  
  
"You mean just hunting and playing all day?"  
  
"Yes. The early days were so much better."  
  
"We can still do those things, you know. The bonding will be over in a few days. The only difference is we'll have each other."  
  
"It won't be. We have no one to hunt."  
  
"No one? Don't you mean nothing?"  
  
"No, I mean a person. I can't explain it Jack, but I got such a rush from the hunt."  
  
"I know what you mean. The idea that a person's life rested in your hands…"  
  
"Yes," Roger sat up, looking into Jack's eyes that glistered in the darkness of the room, "You know exactly what I mean, that's why I chose you. Do you remember it, Jack? The look in his eyes, how his blood tasted on your hands?"  
  
"I remember how his blood tasted on your hands. I remember licking it off and knowing I loved you. I remember watching you lift the spear and drive it through his heart. And I remember just thinking you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen."  
  
"Pigs are not a challenge anymore. I miss hunting humans."  
  
"We can't do anything about it though. The littluns and the other biguns are dedicated to us. We could never do such a thing to them."  
  
"I know." Roger wetted his lips briefly, swung a leg over Jack, and straddled him, grabbing his wrists in his hands. He held them against the wall. "I need violence. Sometimes I just wanna grab a littlun and slit him from throat to navel. I need a change, I'm too restless."  
  
"I can tell, you're getting rougher," Jack sighed, turning his head to the side. Sometimes, even he couldn't take those eyes. "What do you need?"  
  
"I don't know, really, I don't know."  
  
"Will you have to leave me to get it?"  
  
"I might."  
  
"You, you could slap me around, if you really needed to."  
  
"I can't. I'd never hurt you."  
  
"Intentionally."  
  
"Intentionally," Roger agreed.  
  
Jack lifted his head, pressing lips gently to Roger's, though he resisted. He gave in after a moment, accepting the gentle kiss.  
  
"Come on, the littluns are probably getting impatient."  
  
TBC  
  
Sidenote: Everyone should see my background I made, isn't it cute. Yes, this is known as boredom.  
  
http://www.geocities.com/lorien_eyes/JackRogerBack.jpg 


	3. A New Battle

I repeat, this is again off the 1990 movie, though I have now also seen the 1963 version and cooed over how cute it was, surprise surprise. Sorry for not updating in awhile, parents decided they didn't feel like paying for net access.  
  
Wrong: Chapter 3  
  
"Boys, boys, calm down," Jack walked through the circle of boys assembled on the beach. They immediately parted, making way for their leader. "Roger has informed me a new creature has been discovered. Who discovered this creature?"  
  
"I did, sir," one of the older littluns, Johnny, approached cautiously, "I and a few others, that is."  
  
"Tell me about it, hunter, what did it look like? It wasn't, it wasn't the beast returned, was it?"  
  
"No sir, I don't believe so. I mean, it didn't look like Ra-him."  
  
"Was it very big?"  
  
"Yes sir, enormous."  
  
"And did it attack any of you?"  
  
"We ran, sir, when we saw it move."  
  
"Alright. All who are brave enough, follow us and we will hunt and kill this creature. We need at least one of you who were in the group to come with us, to show us the cave. Who wishes to leave?"  
  
None of the boys raised a hand.  
  
"Good, you are all brave, strong boys. I am proud to be your chief. Start leading boys. We will kill this creature and serve it at my and Roger's bonding."  
  
The boys cheered loudly and crudely, racing into the jungle in a thin line of boys. Though skilled with bodies finely tuned, they tripped over each other, gangly as puppies, sometimes falling, sometimes catching themselves on others. Jack and Roger watched silently.  
  
"You're awfully serene."  
  
"Yes, I suppose I am," Roger grinned. He reached a hang out, rubbing a palm against Jack's chest. He cocked his eyebrow.  
  
"Face paint, from where I was lying against you. Come now love," he grabbed his quickly by the shoulders, pulled him forth, and kissed him fully on the mouth. Jack barely felt his tongue on his own before the solid warmth was gone and Roger was running into the jungle after the quieting troop of boys.  
  
  
  
The boys must have been extremely bored or just really curious to have found the cave. It wasn't an obvious one, set on the side of a hill or such. It was found along the coast, beneath another large platform that jutted out from the island. It was dark and wet inside, and small, so that if any of the boys had been overweight they couldn't have squeezed in. Roger held the spears in his hand and then passed them into Jack once he was inside.  
  
"Is it very big in there?"  
  
"Not so very, but it is wide and tall enough, come in here."  
  
"So, where is this creature," Jack smoothed back his messy blond locks and turned towards the group of boys. He didn't show any sign of Roger's appearance in the cave when he felt the heavy hand on his shoulder.  
  
"We saw it in there," Tony, hidden in the darkness, pointed through a tunnel leading towards another opening.  
  
"It seems if you were to travel so far, you were asking for trouble."  
  
"We just wanted to see what was in here!"  
  
"Yes, yes," he pushed them aside and held his spear out, handing the other to Roger. "Wait, I hear something."  
  
"Be careful," Roger spoke so quietly that Jack only heard the words.  
  
"The rest of you, stay back till I tell you."  
  
Jack began to creep along the stone wall, cautiously. He wasn't exactly sure what it was that he heard, but something was definitely echoing from inside the cave. It sounded aquatic, like splashing except quieter. He heard Roger's heavy breathing less than a foot away from him. Sweat was beginning to build on his own brow, and he could imagine it resting on Roger's, salty and erotic, appearing as it had last night in the hut.  
  
"Let me go first," Roger's lips were grazing his ear.  
  
"No, stay behind me."  
  
"I'm bigger than you."  
  
"I'm the chief, I've survived beasts before."  
  
"Careful," the voice sounded farther away now, but still easily close enough that he could reach back a hand and touch Roger's flesh. Oddly enough, this was a comforting feeling.  
  
The tunnel closed in as they crept further, then began to spread again as they reached the new opening. It was darker there, much darker. They heard something almost like sandpaper, as if something heavy was dragging along the stone ground.  
  
"Can you see anything?" Jack whispered.  
  
"No, it's too dark. Do you hear it?"  
  
"Yes." His voice caught and he had to swallow, not bothering to quite finish the simple word. He almost jumped at the sudden feeling of something clammy on the back of his neck, but recognized the fingers. Roger was telling him he was there.  
  
He stepped forward once, a second time. Something felt rough on his feet, sharp and pointy objects. Then he stepped on something thicker. It was slick and just slightly damp. It moved beneath his feet, and he heard something snapping like an object with a spring set within. Whatever he had stepped on slapped against him, almost tripping him. The snapping repeated several times and he felt the onslaught of a large creature pushing against him. He gasped automatically, swallowing a mouthful of air, and swung with his spear, stabbing forward and touching nothing. He directed it towards the floor.  
  
He felt Roger brush against his arm as he sprung forward also and started attacking whatever lay before them. Something whipped against his legs as it undoubtedly directed its attention to his lover. It made little noise, just that snapping and an occasionally grunting sound. Jack saw the barest outline of something large grasp Roger's legs and pull him to the ground. He jumped into action, attacking with all his might and force. He felt the stick penetrate the thick skin and twisted it, forcing it upwards into more of the flesh. The creature quickly turned again and snapped its, at least he presumed, jaws at him. He felt the breath on his legs and the teeth barely grazing him. Then Roger was on the creature, actually laying upon its back, beating it with bare fists. Jack heard him crying softly and also reached out blindly with his hands. He kicked once he was sure Roger wasn't in that area, but between the various wounds and Roger's beating, it was slowing down. He saw just the barest bit of light glittering and knew he had pulled out a knife. He heard the flesh tear.  
  
"Roger, Roger, are you okay?"  
  
"I, I'm fine Jack. I think it's dead."  
  
"Where are you, come here."  
  
"I'm right here, on the creature. I don't want to get up just yet, just in case."  
  
"Boys," he called back, "Boys, you didn't run I hope! Somebody go to the fire and bring back a torch, so we can inspect this creature."  
  
"Somebody just went," one of them yelled back, "He'll be right back. Are you hurt, sir?"  
  
"No boys, we're fine, we're both fine."  
  
So seven minutes later they were found lying on the floor of the cave. Roger was straddling the creature, arms hugging the throat fiercely though it was quite obviously dead. Jack, on the other hand, was straddling Roger, arms lying over the other boy's, hands covering hands. In case the creature really wasn't dead. He didn't want Roger to take it on by himself.  
  
"What is it," they carried three torches. Maurice approached now, lifting it near the head to peer at the animal.  
  
"It's an alligator, or a crocodile, I think," Jack told them. Roger stroked the head lightly then brought his hand to his face, inhaling the scent of fresh blood.  
  
"It's big, how did it get here sir?"  
  
"Probably swam here, looking for a mate or something. Roger, come on, let us get up, I'm quite sure it's dead."  
  
"It is, I don't feel any tension in the muscles."  
  
"Sir, can we leave now," one of the boys sidled up next to Jack, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
"Once we figure out how to get it back to camp."  
  
"We're bringing it with us?" Another boy questioned.  
  
"I said I was serving it at my and Roger's bonding, and I meant it. We might have to cut it into parts. It must be at least eight feet long."  
  
"No, I want to bring it back how it is," Roger cut in, "Show the others."  
  
"Yes, a trophy it is. Alright, you four," he singled out the biggest ones, including Maurice and Robert, "Help Roger and I pull it into the cave opening. Getting it through the water should be easy, it's on land we'll have trouble carrying it."  
  
The twins were taking charge in the absence of their leaders, ordering around those who were younger than them just because they could. Besides, they had been put in charge of getting the ceremony in order and there was much to do. They weren't getting any help from Jack, and certainly none from his mate.  
  
"You two, finish mixing that paint," one of them yelled at two boys who sat on a log, creating a paste of red and blue berries.  
  
"We are, we are," Percival grumbled.  
  
"Sam," the other twin cut in, "They're returning. What is that they're carrying?"  
  
"It looks heavy, look at the littluns stagger."  
  
"Should we help them?"  
  
"We're busy."  
  
"Jack," Eric climbed to his feet and ran off to greet his chief. Sam sighed in frustration but followed his brother obediently.  
  
Jack and Roger were both streaked with fresh blood, face paint smeared by sweat and water. They walked behind the line of boys, spears in hands, not participating in carrying the heavy animal.  
  
"Is that an alligator?"  
  
"It's a crocodile, look at its nose!"  
  
"You don't even know the difference," they slapped at each other.  
  
"I'm going into the forest," Roger whispered against Jack's temple before disappearing from the crowd. "Tell the twins we'll speak to them tonight."  
  
"Alright, be careful." He smiled at the twins and let out a loud shriek, shocking the boys so they almost dropped their quarry.  
  
"You should have seen it, I almost died! Did you see Roger before he left, his legs are practically shredded!"  
  
"Are you hurt?"  
  
"Not at all. Boys, drop it there. Samneric, I have a job for you."  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"I decided what I want to give to him as a gift. You guys, I want you two to keep this secret, alright?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"I want you to pull out all the teeth, I don't care how you do it, and make him a necklace worthy of his strength."  
  
"A warrior necklace?"  
  
"Of course. And make sure it's as perfect as can be. I'll present it to him during the ceremony. You guys will do this, right?"  
  
"It'll be the most beautiful warrior necklace you ever saw Jack!"  
  
"Yeah, only problem being it'll probably scratch the shit outta you in bed."  
  
"Sam!"  
  
"Sorry!"  
  
TBC 


	4. A Race for Truth

Wrong: Chapter 4  
  
Jack called a celebration that night with a feast, though none were to touch the giant reptile. That was reserved for the day of bonding. He lead the chanting music and blessed various boys with praise and future prosperity. None but him seemed to notice that Roger was not present for the celebration. While the boys ran into the night time waters for a breathless swim, Jack walked silently into the forest, in search of his lost mate.  
  
"Roger, love, are you here," he called walking along the river's edge.  
  
Scurrying animals, flowing waters, flapping wings, and hissing insects. But no Roger. Jack was afraid he had done as he said he would, that he had to go out there to find something he couldn't give him. He would have at least liked for him to have told him if he was going to be gone.  
  
But the night was beautiful. The sky above was clear and the moon shone clearly on the water. Sometimes, Jack would like a bit of peace and quiet. That was a rare thing in his life. The children were always after him; wanting him to go hunting, wanting to call a feast, wanting to show him something. Most of them had reached their double digits, didn't they ever want to just have some time alone?  
  
Walking lazily along the shore, he let fingers trail across the bark of a tree, then sat down on a large, cool rock, back resting against the tree. He let his eyes drift shut serenely.  
  
"Why aren't you with the others," Roger's voice was deep and hoarse in his ears.  
  
"I was looking for you."  
  
"You don't have to worry about me."  
  
"I wasn't worried, I just wanted to be with you." He squinted into the dark but could not see Roger, he must have been hidden somewhere in the trees.  
  
Then something dropped on him and he cried out in pain. Roger had just dropped onto him from the branches above, landing right in his lap. He didn't even apologize before he went in for a kiss, hands cradling his smooth face. Jack could feel the slightest bit of stubble against his own cheeks and noted that Roger hadn't shaved in a few days. Alright, why the hell was he thinking about that when Roger's hands were snaking around his waist, pulling him closer. He wasn't wearing his cloth. He must have discarded it somewhere, as now Jack felt him against his stomach. He had the oddest feeling the boy was trying to fuck him with his tongue.  
  
"Roger," he said breathlessly, pushing the boy away.   
  
"Come with me."  
  
"I am with you."  
  
"Into the forest. Come and run with me in the forest."  
  
"If that is what you need."  
  
"Why the fuck does it always have to be something I 'need'? Can't I just want to do something with my mate? Does it have to have a purpose?"  
  
"Roger, I, I didn't-"  
  
"No, fuck it, I just wanted to let you experience what I do. But you don't understand."  
  
"Love, you're frustrated," Jack reached out for him.  
  
"No, stop it, I don't wanna be touched," Roger pushed him away roughly and climbed to his feet, "You don't understand."  
  
"How do you expect me to understand when you leave for hours at a time and leave me alone with the tribe? I don't know what you're feeling because you never tell me. You just choke me or hit me or bite me and think I'm supposed to understand that."  
  
"I just want freedom."  
  
A shocked look crossed Jack's face.  
  
"You, you're not feeling anxious. You're feeling regretful! You miss society!"  
  
"I don't!"  
  
"You do," he insisted.  
  
"I don't miss the people. Jack, I want you to know that much. I could live forever with only you to accompany me and be entirely fulfilled. I just, I miss the spaces. I miss seeing new things, going different places. I miss a time where something wasn't just there."  
  
"Sit back down here, next to me. I want to talk."  
  
"I don't," he pulled away as Jack touched his hand and whipped around, shielding himself from Jack's eyes.  
  
"Roger..."  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
"I won't."  
  
"Just do it, okay? You don't need me at your side, I'm no help."  
  
"You've always been a help. Do you think I would have done away with Piggy and, and him, without you here? Do you think I would have had the guts to do it? Do you think I could have kept control these years, without you by my side? You scare the others Roger. I can't do that anymore, but you do. When they look at you, they just see this hunk of strength that could crush them with no remorse. That's why I love you so. I look at you and know you're so powerful and you're all mine. I don't really understand why you'd give yourself to me. I don't understand why you don't just take the power and kill me. I never have."  
  
"Do you really have to ask that?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You're my savior."  
  
"Your what?"  
  
"My savior, my saint. I know I would probably already be dead or locked up back on the mainland. I had to pick a path. I would either make myself completely miserable trying to adjust to society. I tried that. Do you know before I went to school, I once spent an entire hour grinding a glass into pieces and swallowing the shards just to see what would happen? I know I wanted to die. Either way, I'd end up dead, my own hand or the state's. But you gave me another option. You let me live as I wish without punishment."  
  
"Then I'm just a judge for you?"  
  
"No, don't think that, don't ever think that. I love you, I do. You compliment me, you fit me. Sometimes, I just look at you and my chest tightens and I worry about what I would ever do if I lost you."  
  
"You won't."  
  
"How can you say that? I almost lost you today."  
  
"Is that what is bothering you? The battle? I thought you wished to hunt."  
  
"I did, I do.  
  
"Please, come here."  
  
"For the last time, no!" Roger took a deep breath then turned and ran, back into the darkness. Jack jumped to his feet and raced after him. Roger had the head start, but Jack was skinnier and quicker. He quickly caught up to him, racing beside him.  
  
"Is this what you need," he shouted through the air, "To run away?"  
  
"You need to learn the difference between need and desire!" Roger grabbed Jack's hand in his own, a tight grip. Jack allowed himself to be directed but refused to run behind his mate, even if it resulted in shoving two bodies in a one-person path, acquiring swipes on the shoulders and legs from the vegetation. They ran quicker into the blind darkness, wind whipping at their faces. The air felt both warm and dense yet cool on their skin. Jack gripped Roger's hand in return. A branch slapped across Jack's face and he felt the blood trailing down his forehead. He ran still faster.  
  
Roger tripped over a log and stumbled but did not fall. Jack felt something entangle around his foot and cut the sensitive flesh on top. Roger, with a taller frame, smacked right into a solid overlying branch. The thud resounded.  
  
They didn't slow down.   
  
The forest cleared and they found themselves running along the sandy beech. Here, it was difficult to race so, in the deep, moving ground. They sprinted through the water, the salt stinging the recently acquired cuts and scrapes. As the camp's fire came into view, it occurred vaguely to Jack that another boy had once ran along the beech like this, alone and frightened. The hunters looked up and watched them race past, but did nothing to stop them. The twins looked towards each other, and shrugged.  
  
The fire disappeared behind them. They were following the trail of blood from their quarry earlier that day. It wasn't visible, as the tide had washed most of it away, but every drop of blood was branded on the island.  
  
Jack's ankle twisted in the unsteady ground and this time he fell. He tumbled forth, Roger's hand still grasped tightly in his own. Roger landed atop him. Jack reacted violently, kicking against him. Roger's hands clasped around Jack's throat, choking him. They rolled over, Jack's face turning red as he hit at Roger with closed fists. Roger pulled back and socked him across the face. The both leaned forward at the same time, head bumping audibly. They fell apart, lying on their back on the sand. Both breathed heavily.  
  
"You understand."  
  
"Yes, I understand," Jack coughed and rubbed at his throat.  
  
They were both silent for a moment, thinking. They both realized something serious just happened, but neither were just quite sure what it was.  
  
"Fuck, my head," Roger broke the silence.  
  
"Ditto.  
  
"Wanna head home?"  
  
"Ugh, no. They're all probably out there chanting still."  
  
"You're bleeding."  
  
"So are you. Wanna fuck me?"  
  
"Whoa, you're so sensual, how could I ever resist. Right here?"  
  
"Why not, they're all at the celebration."  
  
"You know it's a private thing for me."  
  
"Hey, we're making up the ceremony, we should add a rule that we have to make love in front of them all."  
  
"Jack!"  
  
"Prude."  
  
"We're creating it to symbolize that which is important."  
  
"We're by the cave where we killed that reptile."  
  
"Are we?"  
  
"Look, right over there," Jack pointed towards the water.  
  
"It is. Wanna go inside?"  
  
"Why would we do that?"  
  
"Well, I thought you wanted to, er, you know."  
  
"I was just kidding, sex maniac."  
  
"Tease."  
  
"Ass fucker."  
  
"Cocksucker."  
  
"Is that supposed to be an insult?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
Jack rolled his eyes then stood up, wet sand sticking to his legs. He reached down to pull Roger up beside him.  
  
"Feeling better?"  
  
"A little.   
  
"Eh, we were supposed to talk to the twins today. I forgot about that."  
  
"We can do it tomorrow."  
  
"Did you mean it, what you said about wanting to make love in the cave?"  
  
"Why," Roger reached out for him, setting hands on thin little hips.  
  
"Not now, I mean. It's too dark and wet in there, but I was thinking, we will need to escape the others for a few days, on a so-called honeymoon."  
  
"Could you leave them alone that long?"  
  
"I'm sure they would be alright. I'll tell the twins to look after them."  
  
"We could spend all day sleeping and making love, and hunt and run during the night," Roger's voice sounded wistful.  
  
"We could," Jack agreed.  
  
"I like the idea. We'll have to move some of the skins to the cave though. And set up torches."  
  
"Lovely idea. Now, I'm tired and my head feels like shit, so stay still and let me use you as a pillow."  
  
"You always do," Roger curled an arm around Jack's tiny shoulders and placed a kiss on his forehead.  
  
TBC 


	5. The Ceremony

Changed the rating to R for nudity and lots of blood. Umm, this is the sadists coming out in me. Thanks for all that bothered to review, you know, back at Chapter 1, no one loves me! *Cries*  
  
Wrong: Chapter 5  
  
The night before the bonding ceremony was to occur, the two ran again through the forest, though in a more open clearing where they were harmed but little. Roger pulled Jack into the ocean and they swam as far out as they could before, too tired to go much farther, they crawled atop a large boulder and rested. Roger took Jack roughly (and a bit bloodily since there was all but no preparation), falling asleep on top of him. When he found himself still on him after waking up in the middle of the night, he took him a second time, Jack sleepily encircling arms around his neck. Exhausted, they slept through the rest of the night. They weren't awoken until hours later when Maurice yelled out to them from the beach.  
  
"Is it morning," Roger voice was slurred from where his head rested upon Jack's stomach.  
  
"I think so. We have to get up, don't we? How about we do the bonding thing tomorrow instead?"  
  
"The food might go bad by then. Why did we sleep on a rock? Ow."  
  
"You think you're in pain?" Jack reached down, swiping dried blood from his thighs.  
  
"We really have to find some better way to do that."  
  
"Maybe if we wish for it a boat carrying a crate of Vaseline will crash and it'll wash up on the island."  
  
"I'm sure. Are you alright for the swim back?"  
  
"I think so."  
  
"Sir, everyone's already preparing," Maurice called back from the shore.  
  
"Go back to camp and tell the twins to prepare the hut," Jack called back, still lying upon his back. He realized dimly he should at least stand, to confirm his control, but he couldn't quite force himself to get up yet.  
  
He felt the pressure of Roger's head leave his belly and heard a small splash as he slipped back into the ocean. Jack watched him shake water from soft brown locks, skin golden beneath the morning sun. He reached out sleepily, tracing a finger over the curve of Roger's ear. He had never quite grown into them but Jack found that part of the charm. His ears were too large, his lips and eyes were a bit too small for his face, and his temperament was explosive. And he was entirely his.  
  
"There isn't enough time to be contemplative," Roger's voice cut through the silence.  
  
"Really, I wasn't in that far. I was just thinking you're beautiful."  
  
"Watch out, you're melting so you'll probably slide right off that rock."  
  
"Oh, hush, this is supposed to be a sentimental day. Give me a hand," Jack held out a palm to Roger and let himself be pulled into the water. The water was shocking to his hot skin and a little shudder ran down his body.  
  
He turned to glance at Roger, but found the boy had already dived beneath the water. His figure was distorted beneath the surface and seemed to glow with the light from the sun. He resurfaced on the other side of him, lips glistening with water. In his right hand, he grasped a wriggling fish. It was a deep blue color, with a violet around the gills and fins, and was about the length of his wrist to his elbow. He held it gripped in his hand so it could almost not move and smashed it hard against the rock, crushing the head and splattering blood across the surface. Needless to say, it stopped moving.  
  
"Breakfast?"  
  
"Please," he reached over and pulled off a layer of meat and skin as Roger held it down. It wasn't that unusual to eat raw fish since the fire was kept up by the huts and it didn't seem worth the walk to cook them. At least, the usual fire was kept up there. The ceremonial fires were always on the beach.  
  
He leaned against the rock, letting his body adjust to the cold water. The fish had a slightly bitter taste but he enjoyed the toughness of the meat, still warm from life in his mouth.  
  
They leaned together, shoulders touching, just slightly curved to face each other. Jack watched Roger's sharp, white teeth tear off flesh straight from the little corpse, chewing with small, thoughtful bites. It had been surprising, earlier, when they found their teeth didn't turn green and fall out as the adults had always told them, if they didn't brush them. But it kind of made sense, they didn't eat any sugar or anything that would really rot them. Just meat and fruit and the occasionally greens when a boy had a stomach ache. Sometimes, the littluns would try to get the little milk they could out of the teats of a recently killed mother sow, but that was a rare and usually unsuccessful feat.  
  
Jack swallowed the chunk of flesh and crept closer to Roger, helping him tear off parts of the meat with his teeth. Roger's eyes met his own and Jack could have sworn, if it was possible for Roger to, he would've giggled.  
  
"You okay until dinner," Roger questioned spitting out little pieces of bone about two minutes later.  
  
"Yeah, I'm good. Let's go get cleaned up so the twins can start doing the paint."  
  
"Do you suppose it's noon yet?"  
  
"I don't think we could've slept that long."  
  
"Suppose not. I hope they don't stare."  
  
Jack was standing on a level piece of land by the river, looking at his reflection as Eric carefully applied the last bit of paint to his body. Beneath Sam and Eric's eyes, Jack and Roger had marked each other. Jack had traced his hands with fresh blood and pressed them to Roger's abdomen, thumbs resting below Roger's navel and finger tips trailing along the hips. In return, Roger had marked the place right on the side of each hip, where they rounded just slightly, giving him an almost girlish figure. He could still remember looking down at him as he did this, and Roger's eyes had been slightly sad as he whispered, 'I would write my name across the small of your back, if I could remember how.'  
  
Now Eric was tracing the outline of Roger's red imprint with black coal, making sure everyone would be able to pick it out immediately and mark it as Roger's hands. They were much too large to be the twins', and the fingers were too thick to be Jack's.  
  
For the last hour, Jack had been standing perfectly still, allowing Eric to paint him as he instructed. There was a sun, with beams of light emitting, across his chest. Encircling his navel was a flower, branching off into vines and leaves that criss-crossed once, then skirted along between nipples and sides, went up around the balls of his shoulders, and then tightened around his arms, ending with a leaf in each inner elbow. From the elbows to the wrists, red flames leaped up, the black smoke traveling over the hands, ending at the tip of each finger. From his hips to his knees, his legs were an ocean of red, with waves crashing upon the pelvis, and black, evil looking fish swimming within. But along the calves it disintegrated into trails of blood, looking exactly like any liquid would as it trailed along window or flesh. Eric was extremely talented. A scar was painted in a complete circle around the ankle so it looked like he had been cut. Thorns covered his feet. In the small of his back, two sets of eyes, black and delicately pointed stared. And along the blades of his shoulders, two great, smoky wings sprouted, spanning from the balls of his shoulders right down to where Roger's fingers kissed his hips. His face was almost left bare, besides some charcoal tracing his eyes, and some designs along his throat that were used for hunting.  
  
He quite liked the reflection he saw. He looked so different from the usual, dirty, scrawny teen he was. His face looked too soft, too gentle, against his body.  
  
"You're breathtaking."  
  
"Did you check on the others yet," he looked towards his mate.  
  
"No, Sam just finished. He said I shouldn't come, something about tradition, but how can there be tradition when something is the first of its kind? How do I look?"  
  
"Come closer, so I can see what you picked," he was standing in the clearing upon the hill, the early morning sun shining around him, blinding Jack. He stepped forward now, pink tongue darting out to touch his lips.  
  
Jack stepped away from Eric, walking forward to meet his love. Sam had followed Eric's example, outlining the handprints on his stomach. It looked great, in an odd sort of freaky savage way.  
  
Roger had chosen a darker sort of symbolism then he. Down his chest, there was a spear painted, almost looking three-dimensional, as it thinned near the bottom then appeared to sink into Roger's navel. Droplets of red blood trailed down below. On either side of the spear was a knife, with red stained along the blade, each groove was perfectly drawn. Entwined around his arms were the outlines of two snaked, with glowing red eyes, and Sam had appeared to try to even color the flesh with the juices from some weeds. They appeared to open their mouths and bite the vulnerable flesh between thumb and forefinger, eyes staring up from the back of the hand. His legs were also dyed green, as Sam attempted to scrawl out long, concealing grass from ankles to thighs, creating a sort of camouflage. Ironically enough, Roger had also chosen wings from his shoulders, but unlike Jack's, they were mutilated. They barely stuck out, appearing to have been plucked and burnt of almost all feathers, only slightly, scraggly ones remaining, and these were blackened. Blood dripped from them, trailing down his back. Sam had drawn lash marks here, like from a whip. And across his throat, the appearance of a scar, with blood oozing down to the collar. Jack reached out now, to gently touch this wound that looked so real.  
  
"Don't, it's still wet," Roger grabbed his hand.  
  
"We can go in a moment, Eric just has to finish outlining your prints," Eric had crawled after him on his knees and now was diving in with the charcoal before he could move again.  
  
"I just spoke to Henry, he said the littluns are getting antsy and want to hurry to the feast."  
  
"They can wait. Samneric, you two are already finished with your own paint, right?" The twins hadn't had any specific designs like the two to be bonded, just symbols they often used in hunting, mostly in black except across the face and shoulders.  
  
"Yes, we completed them this morning."  
  
"We better hurry up," Eric finished, climbing to his feet, "Before you two sweat the designs off."  
  
They took hands, clasping them tightly together; not worrying about the designs the poor twins had just spent so long designing. They were just the palms; most of the other boys wouldn't be looking at their palms.  
  
The ceremony was to be held on the beach, away from the fire but close enough they'd be able to congregate there right after. The others had been setting it up for the last week; creating decorations, getting rid of rubbish and such, setting up stands. They came to the area now. The boys were already gathered around the place the two were to be bonded in, anxious. They parted enough now for the two boys to enter. Two big skins had been cut as Jack had instructed, as round as possible, and they were placed side by side. Not releasing each other's hand, they knelt on these skins, facing each other. Everyone was silent. They finally let go of each other, only long enough to cross their hands over each other and grasp the opposite hands of each other. The twins came to them and tied first each set of wrists together, then the clasped hands. They stepped back and each picked up a skin that was folded upon itself.  
  
"The ceremony will commence by presenting an earthly possession," Jack said in a loud, yet gentle voice. "My soon-to-be-bonded, I have had forged for you a necklace that I believe represents you, beautiful yet deadly, and strong. The only thing on this island that could hold the power you do, if something could hold your power. I hope my gift will please you, for I know nothing could ever measure your strength."  
  
Eric stepped forward, set the skin upon the sand beside them, and unfolded it. He took the necklace from the skin. It was large and weaved from sinew. The teeth were those of the reptile's, as Jack had requested, and there must've been at least thirty of them on the chain. Each had a hole driven through the thicker part, to allow the string to follow through. It was obvious hours of work had been put into it. Roger lowered his head and allowed the necklace to be draped over his neck. It hung far down to the level of his nipples, the teeth white and sharp looking in the afternoon light. Roger leaned forward and pressed a kiss to each of Jack's cheeks.  
  
"For you, I have had something small and beautiful made, as you, yourself, are small and beautiful. But they are still strong and unbreakable. If you wish to accept them, you will have to be put through some pain, but I never believed you would be unwilling to accept a small amount of pain. These earrings were made from metals donated from the boys' watches, and the jewels were found in the sea. Both of which you rule."   
  
Sam approached cautiously with his skin. Inside there were two equal-sized earrings. They were almost tear shape, with greenish colored jewels sparkling inside them and metal molded and twisted around them, ending in a little curl at the top.  
  
"Do you wish to accept them, sir?"  
  
"Yes, but, hurry with them," Jack bit his lip nervously. Each twin took an earring and knelt beside Jack's body. He felt the cold metal touch his earlobe and shut his eyes against the pain. The twins looked at each other, leaning across to make sure that the earrings were even with each other. With a nod, they pushed in. Jack sucked in a breath sharply, but besides that, made no sound. The blood oozed slowly down his throat. His eyes were glazed over as he looked across at Roger. Undoubtedly, he had felt the pressure on his hands as he squeezed. He saw Roger's lips form three silent words.  
  
"I swear to give my soul to you, my bonded, for eternity. I swear to hold you against me as long as you will allow, and stay by your side in whatever world there is beyond. I swear to treat you as a part of me, to do what I must to allow you to feel you may never fear me or have to avoid me. I will gladly follow the name the gods choose for us, and to be known by that name until my undying soul is extinguished."  
  
Jack spoke this vow in a wavering voice, tears starting to build up in his eyes. When Roger spoke, they had already begun to roll down his own cheeks. He repeated the vow, stopping once or twice to catch his breath.  
  
Samneric untied the bonds and, taking the recently scrubbed hunting knives, slashed each one's left wrist. This was done horizontally, as vertical slashes were the deadlier kind. Jack pressed against the flesh of his upper arm, urging the blood to flow. Using his forefinger, he gathered this blood in his hands, and painted stripes across Roger's face, down his nose, almost eyebrow-shaped on his forehead, and in stripes along his jaw. Roger traced Jack's eyes in blood, painting the lids and lips, making the lines that traced his cheeks as delicate as he could. They pulled each other close with their arms, embracing, but not allowing faces to touch, less they smear. The twins stepped back into the group of boys.  
  
"We have now been tied together," Jack announced, not taking his eyes from Roger's face, "Tomorrow, we will return to camp to announce the name the gods have chosen for us. This name will come to us when we become one physically as we now are spiritually. Now, we will let the celebration begin." He turned to the group of solemn boys and grinned. They instantly grinned back and let out a whoop of excitement and raced towards the fire, already beginning to sing. Jack and Roger followed behind them, eyes glancing at each other from below lowered lashes. After the boys were finished dancing, they would feast on the reptile that had been stored in the cool water of a nearby cave, keeping it from rotting. They would hunt after that, every single one of them, no matter how old or sick. The beasts they would kill that night would serve as food for the boys while Jack and Roger were absent for the week. He would not allow them to hunt without him or Roger, as they always lead the hunt. Any who dare try would be punished.  
  
Jack pulled himself from Roger's grasp and jumped into the ring of boys that ran around the fire. They jumped on top of him occasionally, especially the smaller ones, making him carry them upon his backs. When he laughed, his teeth were white against his blood-red lips. 


	6. Morning After

Roger's skin was hot against his own. When Jack moved his hand along skin covering the muscles on his arms, sweat slipped, dripping black and red onto his chest. Jack's hands slid up, resting on Roger's strong, broad shoulders. He felt the muscles moving, sliding, beneath his fingers.  
  
Jack turned his head to the side, long silky blond locks shielding his eyes. They were closed shut in a lazy fashion at the moment. He felt Roger's large, sweaty hand clasp on the delicate bones of his throat that showed, twisted provocatively from his position. Clean sweat pooled at the dip formed by his collarbone. Roger's tongue felt rough as a cat's as he lapped at the salty substance. His soft brown hair tickled his shoulders as the necklace, the only clothing he wore, brushed against erect nipples.  
  
He tasted Roger's blood trailing along with his own sweat against his lips, like melted pennies would taste. There wasn't a difference between life and money to the other world, he had known that at a tender age, and he knew he was lucky to be here.  
  
He slid his hands down, just gently running fingertips over Roger's shoulder blades. He shuddered slightly and reached back, grabbing Jack's hands, and slamming them down onto the skins, holding them in place with one hot, sweaty hand. Roger pushed him onto his stomach, wrenching his arms in the process though he tried to turn the wrists not to hurt him. A little pain wasn't necessarily a bad thing.  
  
His hand was trailing down a smooth hip. Roger's teeth left a crescent on Jack's shoulder, then sucked at the flesh found there, marking him, claiming him as his own. His tongue marked a trail between his shoulder blades, heading down, down, down…  
  
Twenty minutes later, moving with his mate, Jack would throw his head back and cry out an indistinguishable word.  
  
Jack turned sleepily, snuggling closer to Roger's warmth. For all his dominance, he always slept with his back to Jack's chest, allowing himself to be spooned from behind. He must've let go of the boy in his slumber and turned onto his back. He was used to doing this in their hut, because of the heat of the nights, but the cave was too dark and cool to simply sleep alone.  
  
Roger shifted away from him, arm flinging out to slap him in the face. Jack sighed and sat up, defeated, it was morning.  
  
"Roger."  
  
"Mm?"  
  
"It's morning."  
  
"I know, go back to sleep."  
  
"I can't sleep all day like you can."  
  
"Yes you can," he threw his arm around the curve of Jack's hip and tried to draw him close.  
  
"No," Jack pushed back defiantly, a few strands of golden hair falling over his eyes. He brushed these back, tucking them behind his ear. "We have to go speak to the others, tell them we were given a name."  
  
He sat up, crossing his legs beneath him, and turned away from Roger. Roger couldn't help but thing he was the loveliest creature he had ever seen. Golden skinned, with small, bony shoulders. Shaggy blond hair, messily chopped off at the shoulders with their shaving knife, outlined his skull. Roger squirmed over to him and encircled arms around the tiny waist, his cheek pressing against Jack's warm back.  
  
"Are you certain it was told to you?"  
  
"Of course it wasn't 'told' to me, it was presented to me. I heard the name in my mind, as you released."  
  
"Maybe it was only me."  
  
"Only if you can get into my thoughts now."  
  
"But what does it mean? Estaspray?"  
  
"It was Etruhseperay," Jack corrected, "I don't know what it means, but that's what I heard. You came inside me and I heard you whimper and say my name then inside my head I heard Etruhseperay. It is our name, Jack and Roger Etruhseperay."  
  
"Why couldn't we just be Braveheart, or Superior? At least those are real words."  
  
"No love. We will go tell them our new name and make sure the fire is lit, then we will go swimming or hunt or whatever you wish to do, as this is your vacation also. But I promised we would go back first thing in the morning and tell them our name."  
  
"I'm sure they won't care. They're probably slacking off, you know Maurice would've been better in charge, or Robert, or Bill. Why did you pick the twins?"  
  
"Why do you think? Because they're like…him. They have heads on their shoulders. The littluns wouldn't follow Maurice or Robert like they follow us just because they're intimidating. They follow me because of who I am. They will follow Samneric because they trust them."  
  
"They'd never be able to look after them four years ago, before you molded them into the hunters they now are."  
  
"I know," Jack leaned back and placed a quick kiss on Roger's lips, "That's why I'm the chief. Now hurry, get dressed, the quicker we get out of here the quicker we can have some fun."  
  
Sam rolled over, smacking Eric in the face while he was at it. The second twin snorted and flung his arm over his eyes. Sam snuggled against his side but in the process managed to bury his face in Eric's exposed armpit. He pulled back, frowning.  
  
Puberty stinks, literally.  
  
"Eric, wake up," he slapped him on the stomach. The solid thud of bare flesh against bare flesh resounded.  
  
"Prick," he rolled onto his stomach.  
  
"Come on, get up, and go take a bath."  
  
"Leave me alone."  
  
"But you stink."  
  
"So what? Nobody cares."  
  
"I do. Do you think I want to make out with a hunter that smells like the pray?"  
  
"Like you're that picky," he sat up rubbing sleepily at his eyes, squinting towards the boy on the other side of the bed. "Do you suppose the littluns are up yet?"  
  
"They're probably still tired from last night. It still surprised me sometimes, how well they adjusted."  
  
"We adjusted," Eric reminded him.  
  
"No, not really, we were forced to."  
  
"Sam, you said we weren't to talk about that."  
  
"Because they could hear us, but they can't hear us now."  
  
"I don't want to talk about it."  
  
"You still have the dreams."  
  
"Of course I have the dreams," he hissed, turning suddenly to meet Sam's eyes, "He fucking tortured us Sam, how can't I have the fucking dreams."  
  
"I wasn't challenging you."  
  
Some of the anger drained from Eric's eyes and his mouth lost some of its tenseness.  
  
"I know that. I just…it's hard, you know? I've forgiven Jack, I think. But they still killed Simon and Ralph."  
  
"We're not to say that name."  
  
"Sam, you just said so yourself, they can't hear us."  
  
"They killed Piggy also, Eric."  
  
"That was Roger, Jack didn't kill Piggy, that was Roger."  
  
"It's not about the deaths though, is it? It's about what he did to us."  
  
"Jack didn't tell him to do that to us even, you know? He just kinda followed him for his own amusement."  
  
"I know," Sam set a hand on Eric's shoulder. Eric looked at him from the corner of his eye then leaned over, placing a chaste kiss against Sam's lips. Slipping arms around Eric's waist, he leaned back, allowing his brother to sprawl out across his chest. Eric took his hand in his own and looked down at them, playing with their fingers.  
  
"What do you dream about?"  
  
"It's not really a dream," Eric's voice was soft, "It's more of a memory. It's always that day, the one before…he, was killed. It seems silly, somehow. I mean, Roger was so young then, but in my dream I am always scared of him. I feel his fists upon me and when the whip comes down I can't see because there's too much blood and sweat in my eyes. And I blink and look towards you, and you're still unconscious, and Jack's sitting there behind you. And he's just sitting there, not smiling or frowning, just…bored."  
  
"And that was when you wake up?"  
  
"No. That's when you wake up and Roger made that little gasping sound, you know the one I'm talking about. And he spit on me and climbs on top of you but you can't do anything because of the ropes and I see them cutting into your wrists and see the blood trailing down the arms. You weren't that bloody yet, because he had only hit you in the head to knock you out, and you were trying to get away. And then, then, he took you."  
  
"Eric…"  
  
"He did though, he took you. I saw him lift your hips and you were still so young and that's when Jack smiled. I know you didn't see that, but he did. When you sucked in the breath through your teeth and your hands curled up, that's when Jack smiled. And there was something jealous about his smile."  
  
"It was before he and Roger had, umm, cemented their relationship. Jack probably was just watching lustfully, wishing he was I."  
  
"I don't know. But I hate Roger for what he did to you."  
  
"I have forgiven him, why can't you?"  
  
"Because he raped you! He didn't rape me; I'd be able to forgive him for that. But he took you!"  
  
"Why didn't you…" Sam trailed off. Eric's hands grasped at his arms and they held each other in silence. Sam kissed at the identical face, pressing lips into the hollow of Eric's eyes, trailing them down a little pointed noise. Eric's lips were salty when two small, pink tongues met. Eric's body went limp, allowing himself to be held by his other half.  
  
"Come on, let's see what the littluns are up to."  
  
Jack walked along the beach, kicking up sand lightly. It was warm and soft and felt lovely on his feet. Roger walked along beside him, silent as they neared the village-like gathering of huts. As a rule, he didn't like to talk among the others. This imbed behavior always appeared most strongly when they were away from the others for a period of time. He reached out, taking Jack's hand in his, and the blond smiled a bit.  
  
Roger hung back, letting Jack lead the way up to the huts. The first thing he noticed was that the fire set in the middle of the huts had gone out. Two boys lay asleep beside it, lying close together as if they had been cuddled for warmth but had pushed each other away when the morning heat began to grow. Jack didn't allow anyone else to light the fire and had directed the tribe to keep it lit like they had in the earlier years, but to use dry wood lest they make smoke and direct a ship's attention.  
  
Oh well, neither had really expected them to keep it going.  
  
They walked past the ashes, both looking straight ahead of them towards their hut, not directing eyes towards the dead fire. Roger found himself reaching out to touch the little drops of light hanging from Jack's ears. They were catching the morning sunshine like the dew.  
  
"What the…" Jack stilled for a moment then quickened his pace, marching into their hut. Roger grinned a little when he heard Jack's hand slap against something soft and human sounding. He stood at the doorway, looking in. Jack grabbed hold of Henry's arms and yanked him so hard out of the doorway he probably could've dislocated his shoulder if it were in the right position.  
  
"What were you doing in my hut," he hollered, pushing the young boy onto the hard, rocky ground.  
  
"I, I-"  
  
"Answer me!"  
  
"I was just looking for the specs Jack, I swear, to light the fire!"  
  
"You know I don't allow anyone in the hut besides Roger, Samneric, and I! Why do you think you would be allowed in there?"  
  
"I just, the fire-"  
  
"You know I was coming back this morning, the fire was not that important!" Jack kicked the boy in the head with his heel, making him whimper and curl up to protect himself.  
  
"You don't have to be such a dictator about it."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Oh, just punish me already!"  
  
"Oh, I will! Roger!"  
  
He stepped forward eagerly, ready for Jack's instructions.  
  
"What right do you have to punish me?" Henry suddenly uncurled himself and sat back, quickly getting to his feet. "You can't even do it yourself, you make…him do it. You're not strong enough to be our chief."  
  
"Not strong enough," Jack's voice was suddenly laced with sweetness.  
  
"No you're just Roger's little bitch, you know that, we all know that! Why don't you just fucking put on a dress already and bare his freaking children!"  
  
"Henry, dear, I don't need children, I have all of you," Jack replied sweetly, then swung out with his fist, punching him hard right across the face. The solid smack resounded. Henry fell back, Roger catching him before he could fall. Jack shook his head quickly and the younger boy dropped him.  
  
"I wish I had a belt so I could give you a proper whipping, but we know beatings are not as fulfilling as other punishments. Roger, gather the others."  
  
He nodded, a small frown marring an otherwise smooth face. He brushed past the twins as he walked between them. They were approaching, looking down at the fire in understanding. Jack held Henry down, one foot upon the small of his back. Henry attempted to get up but Jack responded by grabbing a spear from Sam's hands and pressing it against the sensitive flesh of Henry's neck. He stilled.  
  
"What's happening," littluns were emerging from the huts, rubbing sleepy pre-adolescent eyes with hands sooty from the night before. They noticed Henry lying on the ground, hands cautiously gripping the rock. They seated around them, grabbing fruits as they approached from a pile leftover from last night, so they could eat during the too-early assembly.  
  
"I found Henry here in my hut, and I believe you all know this is against my rule. I let you do almost anything you wish upon this island, but my hut is the one place none of you are allowed. Why would any of you possibly assume just because I am not here to witness it that it is allowed. Also, when I decided to punish him for this crime, he applied I am not strong enough to be your chief."  
  
Some of the boys were already hissing at the prone figure before them. Some were still too sleepy to do anything but yawn, and some of them were swallowing.  
  
"He also decided to tell me that you all believe that I am no longer as powerful as I once was. Is this true? I hope not, because I still decide who lives and who dies on this island. Roger is my chosen one. I am not his bitch, I am his mate. We do everything together and this is why I have him follow out my punishments. I could follow them out of I wished, but I know he gets a certain…pleasure from this, understand?"  
  
The boys were quieter at this then Jack had expected. Maybe Henry was right, about the general idea on Jack's growing weakness.  
  
"I made Roger come with me here this morning, for I promised I would return early to announce our chosen name. I made a promise and kept it, though neither of us were willing to return so early. I thought you were all willing to keep promises. You promised to follow my rules in order for food, shelter, and security. And what do I get in return?" At this, Jack stomped down hard on Henry's back, eliciting a high-pitched grunt of pain. "Roger, come here," Jack set a hand on Roger's cheek and kissed him softly on the lips, handed him the spear, and turned to go into the hut. Roger took his place, holding Henry on the ground. Roger waited until he was inside before kneeling down, gripping Henry's long-messy hair in his fist, and tugging it so fiercely a few strands came out.  
  
"Don't fuck with power," Roger's lips barely touched Henry's ear. He was standing at full attention when Jack returned with some old cloth ripped in strips.  
  
"Tie him up," he threw the cloth strips to the ground. The boys swarmed around the cloth strips and boy like ants on a dead bird. Some held him down; some tied, some just scratched and hit him for fun.  
  
"Is the raft still in shape," Jack turned to the twins who were just standing there, appearing pale and a little faint.  
  
"The raft?"  
  
"Yes, the raft," he sounded impatient.  
  
The raft had been built last year when some of the littluns had been curious about a small, nearby island. They had been looking for a project and believed the island was too far away to swim to (which it may have been, nobody had tried) and decided to construct a raft to get there. The island had been almost empty. About the size of a gymnasium, it was scattered with some banana trees and had a natural spring, but only some birds and lizards had been found living on it. The natural lagoon there couldn't even be used for swimming, as the entire island had been surrounded by fire coral and jellyfish (one of the boys hadn't been able to sit for a week). They had never returned after the disappointment.  
  
"Yes, I think so," Sam spoke up.  
  
"It's by the lagoon still."  
  
"Good. Put Henry on it, Roger and I will be down there shortly."  
  
The boys grabbed hold of Henry's legs and dragged him over the rough rock, down the slope, and disappeared, a small trail of blood following from where rock scraped along his back. The twins cocked their heads in unison, studying their chief.  
  
"Follow them."  
  
They didn't speak, but turned and walked carefully along the trail.  
  
"What are you going to do to him," Roger's lips were wet.  
  
"You can't beat him yet, I'm sorry."  
  
"Because of his comment?"  
  
"No, because after you beat him we'll have to have someone to take care of him, because I'm gonna make sure you give him the thrashing of his life. We'll bring him to Fire Island, and we'll leave him there for two weeks. I doubt he'll try to swim back, but the littluns are usually down there anyway, we'll just make sure there's always someone down there to make sure he doesn't try to escape. We'll have our feasts down there, make sure he can see us since we could see him, he'll be starving for meat. By the time we all go to bed, he'd be to scared to swim."  
  
"You're deliciously sadistic."  
  
"Don't tell him we will bring him back. I want him to believe he'll remain there until he dies of starvation. The trees will only hold him for so long."  
  
"This is why I love you," Roger stepped forward, taking Jack's head into his hands and just looked down at him. A thumb caressed a golden cheek.  
  
"Walk behind me."  
  
"Always."  
  
Henry was deposited, sobbing and begging on the sand. He crawled forward, taking Jack's hands in his own, and kissing them. Jack pulled back and slapped him sharply across the face me.  
  
"Cross me and face the consequence. Die here and allow the birds to peck at your rotten flesh. Don't bother to yell to the others, they can't hear you and they won't help you anyway."  
  
"Jack, please, my chief, you're my chief."  
  
"I was your chief, now I'm your judge and executioner."  
  
"Jack!"  
  
"And god fucking damn it, stop kissing my hands!" He stepped back onto the raft where Roger already waited, arms crossed. The twins were also there, ores in hand. Henry crawled over towards the raft, hurrying. Roger stooped, pick up the rocks the littluns had piled on the raft earlier, and chucked them, barely missing Henry's head. He ducked and fell back, retreating.  
  
"Have a nice life, Henry," Jack stepped back and allowed Roger to wrap arms around his waist. Samneric paddled back towards their island. The one full of food and fire and shelter. Henry was left a crumbled pile of momentary revolt.  
  
"Sir," Samneric spoke up.  
  
"Quiet, I know what I'm doing." 


	7. Reunion

The third day Henry was on the island, some littluns reported seeing smoke on the island. Henry must've figured out the old trick with two sticks. Too bad he hadn't been smart enough to figure that out that morning.  
  
The chief and his partner decided to return early, since the others didn't seem capable of caring for themselves. They didn't particularly mind returning to their hut. It wasn't as intimate as the cave at night, and doubtlessly the littluns heard them showing their love to each other, but they didn't care that much. Jack declared the week the Week of Soul Bonding, and said it was perfectly all right for him and Roger to drop down in the middle of a feast or hunt to mate. After all, they had just tied their souls together and they were teenage boys. Savage, powerful, sadistic, but teenagers.  
  
Later, they had to specify that this rule only applied to the ones that had been bonded. They assumed everyone was asleep when they went for a walk on the beach and found Samneric literally as one on the cool sand. They had parted, clumsily, Sam trying to close his legs while Eric tried to hide them both.  
  
Roger stayed a few feet away, watching, while Jack kneeled down before them both and gave them his blessing. They hadn't been able to look him in the eye, but they accepted it.  
  
A week after the fire first appeared on the small island, it began to glow in the night. They were feasting that night on their newest kill. Jack stood outside the circle of dancing boys, watching them stab and holler at his bonded. His blood stained the white sand and he fell upon his back, dead. The others hollered in triumph, then Roger climbed to his feet, ran over to where Jack stood, and dropped at his heels, panting. Jack ran thin fingers through Roger's soft brown hair.  
  
"I felt it inside me."  
  
"Did you feel the terror?"  
  
"Its dying terror, not my own."  
  
"Good."  
  
"Chief, chief, dance with us," some of the littluns grabbed his hand, pulling at him. He grabbed his spear; one carved with designs and decorated with feathers, which was used for only the dance, and led a new chant. Many of the boys dropped down, running on all fours. Roger watched Jack closely. He didn't fall, he stood tall and proud. Slim and golden, blond hair, cropped messily, flowing behind him. It fell over his eyes, soft and loose and proud. His eyes wondered towards the island.  
  
And the island was orange and bright.  
  
He jumped into the circle, grabbed Jack's arm, and pulled him away.  
  
"What's wrong," he was breathing heavily.  
  
"The island," he pointed.  
  
"He must've fell asleep with the fire lit, we have to get him off. He's been a good follower, he doesn't deserve to die."  
  
"He's a good hunter," Roger agreed, nodding. "Get the twins, I'll get the raft ready."  
  
"Don't say anything to the littluns, we don't want them panicking."  
  
"Exactly," they looked at each other, kissed each other briefly, and parted.  
  
  
  
"Jack!" Henry was curled up on the beach where the fire had not yet spread. He was dirty from not bathing in over a weak, and skinny from the diet of bananas. Currently, his face was almost black from smoke except two identical trails of clear flesh washed by tears.  
  
"Hurry."  
  
He leapt onto the raft, being caught by his chief who held the younger boy against his chest, stroking dirty hair as if it was the silkiest hair he had ever felt. Henry couldn't stop crying.  
  
"The littluns have noticed," Roger observed quietly.  
  
"I certainly hoped so. I have trained them better than that to know their surroundings. Samneric, start back to the land."  
  
"I thought, I thought…" Henry trailed off.  
  
"I wouldn't let you die. You will not question my authority again?"  
  
"Never, never, I swear."  
  
"I want you to talk to the littluns, tell them you were wrong and they should always trust their chief."  
  
"I will!"  
  
"Roger still has to beat you."  
  
"I, I, yes. I understand," he pulled away from Jack's chest, still sniffling, and looking over to his punisher. Roger's eyes glowed orange from where he watched the island set ablaze.  
  
When they reached the lagoon, several of the boys were already in the water, helping to pull the raft onto the beach. They were excited from the fire and begged to be allowed to go over to the island. But when they heard Henry was now to be whipped, they quickly decided the main island was much more entertaining.  
  
Jack turned to order the twins to bind Henry's arms, but they were missing suddenly. Maurice tied the wrists together and wound them above his head to a strong branch. Henry was forced to stand tiptoe to keep himself from being completely suspended by his fragile-boned wrists.  
  
Roger had already wound a whip of vines earlier, preparing for the beating. It was made special of only the thinnest strands, and pieces of metal were woven into some of the tips, guaranteed to slit flesh. Jack stood beside him; spear in hand, leaning to one side. Roger waited for the order.  
  
"How many lashes do you believe are in order."  
  
"He questioned your authority."  
  
"I was thinking, one for every boy on this island? For he insulted every one of us."  
  
The boys thought this idea splendid. They loved the idea that their friend would be branded by one of their lashes. Roger nodded, finding the punishment fair. A visible shiver, even with the light only from the fire, traveled down Henry's spine.  
  
"Precede, Roger," his arm pulled back, muscles flexing, appearing large and smooth from the shadows of the fire. Jack found his eyes following the movement of the shoulders, and forward, bringing the whip down. Henry's back arched and he grunted, but did not cry out. Jack turned, walked slowly backwards, so as to see Roger's face. The features were set stern and cruel, except for just the littlest turn up at the corners of the lips. By the fifth lash, Henry was crying out while blood trickled down his spine.  
  
The boys danced around him, kicking sand at him in front. Many of them were his closest friends and played and hunted with him every day.  
  
Seven before the last lash fell; Henry went limp, head falling upon the chest. Roger continued to lay down the whip on the unconscious body. Every lash was important, even if the prisoner could not feel them at the moment. Maurice untied Henry's wrists and he fell to the sand. His closest friends gathered around him, carrying him away but being careful of his back. They brought him beside the fire and began to tend to his wounds with soft, wet cloths. Jack and Roger, walking in step, sat down beside the fire, and began to eat.  
  
That's when they heard it.  
  
A booming sound, loud and low. It was two syllables long, cut in two by a change of pitch. They didn't see the ship until they were attracted to it by the noise.  
  
The boys all jumped up, startled, scared. The ship bypassed the island, as it was obvious nothing could be alive on it. That must've been what attracted them initially, but now they could see the small fire on the beach.   
  
Jack's head whipped around, looking for a way they could escape. But how could they. Henry was, he was in no condition to escape. He was unconscious and in pain. A voice was already coming from the ship, crackled and mechanical sounding.  
  
"Stay there, we will send a boat to meet with you. I repeat, stay there."  
  
"Chief, what do we do," Johnny sounded frightened, taking Jack's hand in his own.  
  
"I, I don't know. Roger, do we attack them?"  
  
"We can't attack a whole ship," his jaw was clenched, rigid. When Jack took his hand and squeezed it, Roger squeezed back.  
  
When the captain and a few of the men on the crew walked towards the sand, they found several chains of boys locked together. Many of the little ones in one long chain. Shorter, smaller chains of the biguns. And together, Jack and Roger stepped forward, chins held up high as royalty, to greet their visitors. Jack swallowed and nodded to him, eyes glossy.   
  
The captain looked at the two scrawny teenage boys. How they held hands and stared with what seemed like one set of intense eyes, just doubled and changed in color. But the feeling was the same. He stared at their clothes. At the loincloths of pigskin, painted with blood and clay. At their decorations, the different spears and feathers and shells. At the sharp teeth around the neck of the larger boy, and the shining earrings of the smaller one. At their bronzed skin and uneven hair. The boys behind them shivered.  
  
"Do you speak English?"  
  
"Yes, my tribe is made of English speakers," Jack acknowledged.  
  
"Your tribe? Are you the leader?"  
  
"Yes, I am the leader and this is my tribe. These are my hunters."  
  
"What are you doing?"  
  
"We killed a pig today, we are having a feast."  
  
"Do your parents know you're here?"  
  
"Our…parents?" this voice came from a small boy behind them.  
  
"Quiet, Percival," the chief hushed. "They don't have parents, I take care of them all. I feed them, I watch over them, I make sure they don't hurt themselves."  
  
"You? You're just a boy yourself!"  
  
"I am not!"  
  
"Aren't there any adults on this island?"  
  
"This is my island, there are no adults. I rule this island."  
  
"How long have you been here?"  
  
Two identical voices spoke from behind them, reciting a date together in unison. Jack hadn't noticed when the twins had returned.   
  
"That was over four years ago!"  
  
"Yes, and we are doing fine on our own. We would appreciate it if you would leave our island and forget you ever saw us."  
  
"These children… Some of them can't be older then ten! You can't just keep them here, like pets! I'll radio my crew to send more boats to bring you all home."  
  
"We don't want to go back there," Jack spoke louder now, stepping forth so he was no longer even with Roger, "We don't need that world anymore. We have lasted this long and the children no longer need their parents. Please, leave us be."  
  
"This isn't fun and games!"  
  
"Have you ever thought maybe that was the problem? We want fun and games! We don't want that hell you call society."  
  
"You're all underage, your parents have probably been mourning for years, and you just say screw them?"  
  
"Yes, now leave."  
  
"Little boy, the one who spoke, come here," the captain waved to Percival. He bit his lip, and stepped forth.  
  
"Percival, go back," Jack commanded.  
  
"No Percival, come here, I'm an adult."  
  
"Percival, don't! I'm your chief."  
  
"But I'm an adult."  
  
"I'm the chief."  
  
He looked back and forth between the two older males, and stepped towards the eldest. Jack glared at him.  
  
"Percival…"  
  
"He's an adult, Jack," he sniffled, taking the man's hand.  
  
"I will be in a few more years also, and you know me. I've cared for you, come back to me."  
  
The youngest boys all stepped forward, crowding around the captain. Jack curled his lip, angry. He felt more then saw Roger step up beside him. The captain noticed this also, and his hand rested on something in his pocket as he saw the spear Roger carried.  
  
"Who's that, your henchman?"  
  
"My bonded."  
  
"Your what?"  
  
"My husband, in your society."  
  
"Er, right. Does he talk?"  
  
"He's better at stabbing."  
  
"Listen, kid, I'm just trying to do a good deed."  
  
"Then do forty of them and let every child on this island go back to their lives and pretend none of this ever happened."  
  
"I can't do that kid. Alan, get some more boats over here," he called back to a bearded man wearing a fishing hat.  
  
"Jack," Roger's voice was strained.  
  
"I, I don't know."  
  
"We can't."  
  
"What can we do?"  
  
"Me and you, we could just turn, and run."  
  
"They'd come after us."  
  
"It's dark."  
  
"But they know where the island is."  
  
"It's a big island."  
  
"Roger," he turned to him, eyes shining, "We can't survive here alone, we can't hunt with only me and you."  
  
"I know, we'd die."  
  
"Are you coming peacefully," the captain questioned. "I'm not leaving you two behind."  
  
"Where are you taking us," Jack handed his spear to Roger and ran a hand through his hair.  
  
"California. We were heading home tonight, we expect to arrive by morning."  
  
"We're only a night's drive from California?"  
  
"Less then."  
  
"It doesn't feel like… We'll come, if we have to. But what if the littluns agree to stay, then can they stay?"  
  
"No, they can't. Their parents need them back."  
  
"Many died in the plane crash. They can assume they just died then and it's like nothing ever happened."  
  
"Young man…"  
  
He looked over at Roger then took his arms, put them around his waist, and leaned against him. They didn't speak again in the presence of an adult until they reached the main land.  
  
Jack lay against Roger on the ship, his back against Roger's broad chest. They had been assigned the food hall to stay in for the time, since they had no rooms available and the cafeteria was the biggest room. The crew had set out cots for them all, as many as they could, and many still had to sprawl out on sleeping bags. Almost everyone in the tribe was gathered in the room, sitting upon the floor or the cots. But they all faced their leader, confused and needy. He hadn't talked. Jack seemed beaten down. Percival was absent, frightened as he was. And the twins had been taken into the captain's quarters to talk. Henry had been taken also, to have his wounds looked after.  
  
"Sir," one of the youngest kneeled before Jack, taking his hands gentle in his own. Jack looked down into his face, then out over the others. He licked his lips.  
  
"My hunters."  
  
They nodded, looking around, frightened. Some of them held each other.  
  
"Simon, Piggy, and Ra, Ralph, they crashed upon the island with us."  
  
"We know that, sir," Robert's forehead was crinkled in confusion.  
  
"And Simon drowned. Piggy died of an asthma attack. And Ralph just disappeared so it's assumed he was killed by a boar or disease."  
  
"Sir," Bill sounded confused, "Simon died that night, and Piggy beneath the rock. And Ralph, we…"  
  
"No. Simon drowned, Piggy has an asthma attack, and Ralph simply disappeared. Everyone got that?"  
  
They looked around at each other then back at their chief, nodding.  
  
"Somebody go find Percival for me. Tell him I'm not angry. Samneric already know how the three died, so nobody need remind them."  
  
"Where will we go sir?"  
  
"Home, I suppose, wherever you all lived before going to school."  
  
"School," it was one of the younger boys, "Will we have to return?"  
  
"I think so," Jack sighed. He shifted against Roger's chest, feeling closed-in and restrained.  
  
The door opened and the twins entered, followed by the captain who looked even more perturbed than earlier. He looked around then centered his eyes on Jack and Roger.  
  
"Come to my cabin."  
  
"You do not order me around," Jack spoke threateningly.  
  
"I am not ordering, I am requesting your presence in my cabin."  
  
He looked back at Roger then stood, pausing to allow Roger to also stand, and followed the captain back to his quarters. Roger stayed approximately two feet behind him, keeping a close eye on the captain.  
  
"Does he have to be here," the captain gestured to Roger.  
  
"He comes everywhere with me."  
  
"I just wish to speak to you."  
  
"Anything I would say Roger already knows, so why does it matter if he is here?"  
  
"Alright. Just sit down," he opened the door and followed the two boys in. They stayed standing in the middle of the room, before a crowded desk. The captain took a seat behind it, moving some of the papers aside. "Will you be seated?"  
  
"We don't need to sit. What do you want to speak of?"  
  
"I talked to the two boys, they told me how you came to be there and how you have survived. They named all the boys for me and I already have my crew contacting schools, police, and parents at the moment. They told me you are the leader, but there was once another leader, a boy named Ralph?"  
  
"Yes, but Ralph died shortly after our arrival."  
  
"They said he just disappeared."  
  
"It was very early, before we knew the dangers of the island. He walked out one day, he said he was going to explore, and he never returned."  
  
"Did the other boys like him?"  
  
"They respected him, they chose him as their first chief."  
  
"The little one, Percival, could not remember how he died, when I asked him?"  
  
"He can't even remember his own name."  
  
"He's scared of you, he says you'll punish him for leaving, like you punished Henry. Why did you beat this boy?"  
  
"Henry? I am their chief and I have an obligation to watch after them and protect them. I ask them to do as I say in response. Henry went against my rules and needed to be punished."  
  
"What did he do?"  
  
"He entered Roger and my home, without my permission, and tried to steal something from us. I had him exiled for a short time then instructed Roger to whip him. He will be fine, in a few days."  
  
"Surely there was nothing so important that he deserved such a beating."  
  
"When you run an entire tribe, you can never show pity. I have to keep them in order or chaos would rule. I did what I had to."  
  
"They're just young boys."  
  
"As was I, once."  
  
"Yes, well. One of the twins told me you last name is Etruhseperay, and the same for your bonded. This is not your real last name, is it?"  
  
"Yes, the spirits chose it for us."  
  
"But what about when you arrived on the island, it wasn't that, then, was it?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I have spoken to the school the twins gave me, and have already received your rightful names. They have contacted both your parents and they are on their way to the city to meet with you."  
  
"I don't wish to see my parents."  
  
"The police will also wish to speak with you, I suspect. Go back to the cabin and rest."  
  
"Wait, I wish to speak to them, alone." Nobody had noticed when Henry had awoken, but now he was pulling himself up onto his elbows, looking at the three figures in the middle of the room. The captain hesitated.  
  
"Alright, but only a few minutes."  
  
After he left, they waited for a few seconds until they heard the footsteps fall away, then Henry sat up farther, stopping with a hiss. His back had been bandaged up and the checkered quilt only came to his waist. His back was a large, white bandage with blood soaking through.  
  
"Why did you mention Simon, Piggy, and Ralph at all, sir?"  
  
"One of the littluns is bound to mention them. I don't want them to think we have double stories and get suspicious."  
  
"Samneric said Simon drowned, Piggy had an asthma attack, and Ralph disappeared."  
  
"Yes, that is what we are sticking to. Will you tell them the truth?"  
  
"I'll tell them whatever you wish me to tell them."  
  
"Good. How is your back?"  
  
"Not too bad, I understand why you had to do it."  
  
"We didn't plan on leaving you on the island. I just couldn't take that disobedience."  
  
"I was just having trouble dealing with it. I don't know why I reacted that way."  
  
"You're a teenager," Jack offered with a slight smile.  
  
"But you never reacted like that just because you were a teenager."  
  
"Henry, I took control of forty boys, killed three, and ran a tribe for four years. I think I had my fair share of teenage outrage."  
  
"There's just been something wrong lately, I've felt so odd."  
  
"I think, I think civilization might be good for you again."  
  
"What about you two."  
  
Jack looked back at Roger, then shook his head.  
  
"I don't know about us."  
  
"Boys," the captain opened the door, "It's late, your parents are all on their way. Please, go back to the room and sleep."  
  
"Mrs. Merridew, Mrs. Merridew, are you excited about getting to see your son again?"  
  
"What do you think your sons now look like?"  
  
"The captain reports your son didn't want to return, why do you think this is?"  
  
Reporters crowded around the parents of the boys that had crowded into the small harbor as the ship appeared on the horizon, illuminated by the rising sun. Most of the parents had been able to get there in the eight or nine hours between the phone calls, some lived in other states, some just couldn't arrive in time, and some unfortunately, were dead. Jack and Roger's parents stood together, knowing each other from when their sons had been friends in the choir. The other parents of the choirboys were also nearby. Most of the parents were split into small groups, talking quietly. At least trying to, if all the damn paparazzi would leave them alone.  
  
The captain appeared first, walking down the strip. In his hand, he held the fingers of a young boy of about ten years of age. A boy who could be described as being so ugly he was cute. The police met him at the bottom, one of them stooping down to talk to the boy. A cautious line of other boys began to descend, mostly the smaller ones in head, but some larger ones mixed in, towering over. At the very end, there were four boys that were not in a single straight line, but in couples. Maurice was steadying Henry, still half-naked and bandaged, on his shoulder. And at the dead end, Roger and Jack walked in unison, shoulders touching, heads held high.  
  
"Mommy, which one's Jack?" Lisa, a three-year old daughter of Mrs. Merridew, tugged at her mother's arm.  
  
"He's in the back somewhere, I can't tell which one he is yet."  
  
The meetings were awkward. Children stood beside graying parents, feeling oddly tall and gangly. Parents looked into faces too dark and serious to be their child's. Mother's reached for children that pulled away from them, preferring to be held by older children for comfort.  
  
"Jack," his mother ran up, embracing her son. The lean blond boy stood there, letting her wrap her arms around him but not making any effort to do the same. He might as well been a two-by-four.  
  
"They said you were the leader of the boys the last four years, I'm so proud of you."  
  
"Yes, well. Where are we going to?"  
  
"They're bringing you all to the police station. You have been reported dead, we have to reclaim your citizenship. Then we'll probably have to talk to some reporters, but don't worry, we'll be home in no time and you can see your grandparents and uncles and father."  
  
"I… We're going back home, separately?"  
  
"Well, no, me, you, and Lisa. Oh Jack, this is your new baby sister, Lisa. She was born not too long after you disappeared."  
  
"No, I mean, I have to leave me tribe?"  
  
"Jack, you can see the boys again in school."  
  
"I can't just leave them alone, I swore I'd watch over them forever."  
  
"They don't need you to watch them anymore."  
  
"You don't understand," he turned away, disgusted. Roger glanced at his parents, not really sure what he was supposed to say to them, then trotted after Jack. He was pushing his way through the crowd, up to a microphone that had been set up for the police and captain to speak to the crowd through. He shouldered a cop out of the way and tapped at the microphone. It vibrated throughout the harbor.  
  
"Hello, I'm Jack Etruhseperay, I'm chief of the boys, and wish to speak. I know my hunters, and they do not wish to be separated. We will go with the police, if they wish us to, and we will sleep wherever you wish for us to stay. But we will not be separated."  
  
Some of the parents began shouting angrily. A policeman grabbed Jack's arm angrily, yanked him away from the pedestal. Jack responded by pushing him back. When the cop shoved him another time, rougher then before, he suddenly found himself with a knife to his throat as Roger tried to uphold his love's honor. Panic surged through the crowd.  
  
"Roger, it's okay, release him."  
  
"He doesn't respect you."  
  
"He's an ignorant fool. Come here, with me. We'll go for a walk, I need to get away from here."  
  
Roger raised his upper lip in disgust. He had barely lowered his arm before he found it handcuffed behind his back. He and Jack were both shoved into the back of a cop car. They leaned their heads together, shielding their eyes, as they were driven away. At least it was quiet in here. 


End file.
